For The Sake Of Science
by Nimrod The Writer
Summary: Maddie and Jack stumble across yet another fight between the Wisconsin Ghost and Danny Phantom, but this one isn't quite like all the other fights. "Should we stop them?" Jack asked, giving me a bewildered expression. "I don't know." Onesided VladxDanny
1. Chapter 1

I like to write disturbing things. :D

* * *

I've studied ghosts for years, since the moment I could read paranormal magazines. I don't know what it is about those odd manifestations of post-human consciousness, but they're just so fascinating. Throughout my years of study, I've learned a great deal, enough to fill several books. Jack, my favorite lab partner and husband, shares in my knowledge and love of ghosts. And by love I mean love to observe, study, and hunt them. He mostly likes to hunt them.

It's no mystery why we chose Amity Park to settle down in after college. They had a nice community, decent school, and the cost of living was within our budget. Of course, the best aspect and the main reason we chose Amity Park was because of its notorious paranormal sightings. Even better, the ghostly activity has really picked up this past year, ever since Danny Phantom appeared.

Me and my husband often study and hunt him. It's quickly become one of our favorite past times. He's certainly an enigma, unlike any ghost I've ever encountered. Most ghosts tend to keep to themselves, displaying a certain level of self preservation even when they occasionally bust out of their lairs and haunt people. But Phantom isn't like that. He actually looks for fights, spending hours at night flying around our city with a patrolling eye.

He's definitely attracted a lot of ghosts in this past year, too. This is both good and bad. Bad because, of course, Amity's citizens are put into more danger. Sometimes I'm even scared to send my children to school. However, the increase in ghosts has done wonders for our studies, providing ample field time and endless opportunity to observe and hunt these specters. Phantom's even managed to incur the wrath of the Wisconsin Ghost, giving us even more variety. Luckily, Phantom takes his fair share of battles, often fighting and defeating the ghosts he attracts so the town isn't overrun.

Now don't get me wrong. I don't see him as some silly super hero like most of the town does. Me and Jack are firm in our beliefs that he is just a ghost. Nothing more, nothing less. I'm not quite sure what his obsessions is, since he seems to do a good deed one day and a bad one the next. Perhaps, since he obviously died during his teenage years, he retained his adolescence through death, struggling with a sense of self as well as trying to cope with his death.

Sad, in a way, but it's just how ghosts are. After all, they're nothing more than echoes of deceased human lives, floating along and driven strictly by their personal obsessions. They feel nothing except maybe a dull ache to fulfill whatever business they've left unfinished.

And so, based on that logical evaluation of ghosts, they obviously don't have normal human emotions such as greed, happiness, excitement, misery, etc, etc. And they certainly don't feel lust. Which means the scene in front of me makes absolutely no sense.

"Ah! What the hell, Plasmius! Get the fuck off me!"

The Wisconsin Ghost grinned wide enough that I could see it from my hidden post, fangs flashing in the moonlight. He ran a gloved hand up the Ghost Boy's chest provocatively, making the teen squirm and shout again. I looked over to Jack, making sure I wasn't imagining things. But he had the same incredulous expression as I did, mouth hanging open in slight disgust.

"Stop it! Ahh!"

I looked back up at the Ghost Boy to see him stretching his neck away, grimacing when the Wisconsin Ghost ran a tongue along his neck and sinking his fangs into the glowing skin. This was, without a doubt, the most bizarre thing I had ever seen.

"Isn't the Ghost Boy a little young for him?" My husband's low voice came from the right, his lip stuck out in confusion.

"Perhaps age is meaningless in the Ghost Zone?" I pondered, "After all, ghosts can exist for an undetermined amount of time. Phantom may look like a teenager to us, but maybe he's as old as the Wisconsin Ghost as far as the after life goes."

"Hmm." Jack hummed in agreement, watching the struggling duo with a degree of scientific curiosity.

"P-Plasmius! Knock it off!"

Phantom tried to punch the Wisconsin Ghost, but was too slow. His wrist was caught, held in a tight restraining grip. When he tried to pull away, the larger ghost tangled his fingers in his hair and yanked him forward, ignoring his yelp.

"So...should we stop them?" Jack asked.

I shrugged, at a loss with the whole situation.

"I don't know."

A sinister laughter came from the adult specter and he twisted the younger ghost around, pinning his shaking form to his chest.

"Jack, look." I whispered, sneaking a point at Phantom. "I think he's trembling."

He squinted, raising an eyebrow before shaking his head.

"Nah, that's impossible Mads. Humans tremble, not ghost. Ghost's can't feel fear."

Phantom cried out again, his electric green eyes wide. I felt my stomach twist a bit, for some reason feeling the need to stop the larger ghost and beat it into the ground.

"I don't know Jack, he looks pretty scared to me. Maybe we _should_ help him."

"Now now Mads. Don't let normal reactions cloud your judgment. This may look wrong, but remember, their just ghosts. It's probably normal for them." He pat my shoulder, smiling down at me.

I still felt a little uneasy, but saw the logic in his words. He was right. They were just ghosts. My natural inclination to help him was just an automatic instinct for the morally unethical situation they were portraying. Nothing more.

"Still, I can't help but think Phantom is feeling fear. That doesn't make sense though..." I tapped my chin, confused by the evidence before me.

Jack watched as Phantom managed to rip himself away from...what did he call him? Plasmius? The Ghost Boy bolted about ten feet before crashing into a clone of the larger ghost, gasping and quickly flying away in what looked like pure terror. However, the real Plasmius grabbed him before he could escape, locking him against his chest again and holding a hand over his mouth to muffle his screams.

"Maybe he's just experiencing a memory of fear." Jack began slowly, organizing his thoughts. "Ghosts have memories of their lives before they died, so maybe he's remembering what fear _used _to feel like and imposing it on this situation."

"Ah, well that makes sense." I nodded, thinking to myself and giving him a cookie out of habit. He ate it in gleeful silence.

We watched the fight in the air for a bit longer; Jack started taking notes. I wondered if maybe I should videotape this for future studies.

"What I don't understand is why Plasmius is doing this to Phantom." He suddenly stopped scribbling notes, looking back up at the ghostly pair in renewed confusion.

"They're always fighting," I shrugged, "This is probably just another way to fight for ghosts. Plasmius could be doing this to drag the memory of fear from Phantom so he can take advantage of his synthetic terror as a way to defeat him."

"He seems to be doing a pretty good job." My husband muttered, frowning at the way Plasmius ravaged the boy's skin.

"Now Jack," I chided, a teasing smirk on my face, "Don't let emotion cloud your judgment."

He looked down at me with a half smirk of his own, rolling his eyes before observing the scene above once more. Plasmius forced Phantom to turn around, holding him down with his arms and leering at his terrified face. Phantom's eyes went wide and for a moment I thought I was seeing things again.

"Is Phantom hyperventilating?"

I felt silly even asking, but when Plasmius forced his lips against Phantom's, and the young boy seemed beside himself with panic, Jack had to do his own double take.

"It must be a reflex." He murmured, taking a moment to scribble down a few more notes.

I could hear his muffled screams, my gut twisting again. Plasmius suddenly ripped the top of Phantom's jumpsuit apart, clawed hands dancing over the exposed spectral skin. I felt disgust rise up in me.

"I forgot how primitive ghosts can be." I said with distaste.

Jack agreed, an unpleasant frown on his own face. Phantom's eyes were clenched shut, fists beating the older ghost's shoulders. I shook my head, hoping we'd be able to snag the fallen tatters of his jumpsuit to analyze it.

We sat there, waiting for Plasmius to declare his defeat and move on so we could search the area for fallen hairs and grab the ruined jumpsuit top. But the ghost deepened the kiss, violently ravaging Phantom's lip. He dragged one of his hands down the boys body, gripping a thigh before suddenly breaking the kiss, throwing the teen to the ground by his leg.

I didn't understand. Clearly, Phantom was more than terrified. Why was Plasmius continuing to taunt the boy?

"The Wisconsin Ghost sure is taking his time." Jack commented, watching as the specter dove at the fallen teen.

"They _should_ be finishing up..." I frowned, not liking the way Plasmius was now straddling the screaming boy.

"Vlad, Stop! Get off me! Stop!"

"Vlad?" Jack wrinkled his nose.

"Well you didn't think his name was just 'Plasmius', did you hon? I'm sure Vlad is just the equivalent of a first name."

"Weird. Danny Phantom and Vlad Plasmius. Same first names as my son and best friend. Go figure." He shook his head, laughing quietly.

I wasn't listening, too focused on the battle turning something else before me. I didn't like this. Trivial kisses and groping was one thing, but I couldn't stand by and watch this young teen, the same age as my son, be so defiled by that devious ghost. That went against my code of ethics _too _much.

Phantom's screams were muffled again when Plasmius pressed his lips against the younger boys', yanking his flailing arms above his head and restraining them there. Another hand furtively snaked downward, toying with Phantom hemline. The Ghost boy was struggling wildly, chest heaving and glistening eyes wide.

Wait a moment. I froze, staring at Phantom's terrified face. His eyes were too bright, blinking rapidly.

"Jack." I said, my alarm restrained.

He stopped chortling, instantly quieted by my tone.

"Is Phantom _crying_?"

When he gasped, I knew he could see it too. Silver streaks slipped out of Phantoms eyes, dripping to the ground and collecting on the grass. Jack gapped, as stunned as I was speechless.

Then Plasmius' toying hand dove way past the hemline, breaking our already surprised minds with shock. Phantom's groaning scream was still muffled by a violent kiss, back arching. Plasmius' eye flashed, pure malicious amusement dancing in his pupiless hues.

"Jack, I don't think this is a simple battle tactic." I whispered, suddenly feeling very nauseous.

I looked over at his pale face. He blinked, shaking his head in disbelief, looking sick himself.

"But...but they're just ghosts. Why would he want to...to..."

"Jack." My voice was strained. I couldn't stand by and watch this. "I know their just ghosts, but right now that young ghost is being raped and I don't care what plain of existence he's from, I can't sit here and do nothing."

My throat was too tight, heart thumping. Jack gapped for a moment, but then his shock quickly hardened, a fiery look in his eyes.

"I gotcha Mads. You don't have to explain."

Relief at his understanding washed over me, and then, without further ado, we both charged.

* * *

It could have been worse. They could have left him. Bwhahahaha!


	2. Chapter 2

Whoooooooopart2. Dunno if I'll continue it. I need to finish the next chapter of Unexpected Abuse and the continuation of Role Reversal first...and Domination. Oh, and my art lecture paper. And my American government paper. And both of my Humanities papers. Probably should study for that Astronomy final too.

Geez, what the hell am I doing on fanfiction right now?

* * *

Danny has been acting very strange lately.

"Sweetie, can you get the onions out of the fridge?"

"On it baby!"

Jack, in his usual fashion, jumped up from the kitchen table to fulfill my request. The invention he was tinkering with fell to the table with a dull clunk, no doubt busting all of his repairs. I sighed, knowing I'd have to fix it myself after he was done.

"Here ya go, Mads! I'm almost done fixing the Fenton Bazooka! That Plasmius ghost sure did a number on it." His smile fell into an irritated frown.

Empathetically, I patted his slumped shoulders, turning back to dinner and cutting up the vegetable.

"Yes, but we won in the end and that's all that matters." I replied, my words quickly cheering him up as I knew they would.

"Ha ha, that's right!" He grinned, gusto returned. "We had him running for the hills! Er...well I guess that would be _flying _for the hills..."

"Mmhm." I nodded, slowly stirring the concoction in the skillet.

I didn't comment on _why _we'd chased down the Wisconsin ghost, and neither did Jack. It was something that continued to cause us extreme confusion, not to mention discomfort. Even a week after the incident we were no closer to discovering _why_ Plasmius had treated Phantom the way he did. It simply went against everything we've ever known. Ghost's aren't supposed to feel emotions, and any 'emotions' they feel are simply lingering sensitivities that get passed on through death. So is that why the Wisconsin ghost acted they way he did? Was he perhaps some filthy child-molester sentenced to death only to return as a ghost, reacting on lingering sentiments? The thought was harrowing.

"Jack, have you seen Jazz or Danny? Dinner should be done soon, so if they're out they need to come home."

"Nope, haven't seen'em." He replied, arm deep in repairs and not moving from his chair.

I rolled my eyes, knowing it'd take a lot more to remove my husband from the table. Placing the burners on low, I went to find the kids myself, thoughts continuing to run a mile a minute.

What's curious about the Wisconsin ghost is that he's never shown signs of this sort of behavior before. Our records tell us he's been around for about twenty or so years, but this is the first case in which he's attacked a younger specter like that. Well...at least that we know of.

I grimaced at the thought, unable to keep myself completely objective. Even if Plasmius' victims are ghosts, I can't help but feel some serious pity for them. But did that mean Plasmius is _more _evil than his victims? Aren't all ghosts supposed to be equally evil? Were there perhaps variations to the degree of wickedness in specters, or was that just my own bias coming into play?

Unbidden, my mind brought up the mental image of Phantom and the pure terror in his crying eyes. He was an enigmatic ghost if there ever was one, but an image of fear was never something I thought to place on him. He was always diving head long into danger, whether it was to pretend he was saving the day or causing more trouble. To see him so scared and helpless...well it certainly made me _feel _like Plasmius was the more despicable ghost here.

"Jazz! Danny! Dinner!" I called, waiting until one of my children appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Danny's out with Sam and Tucker." My daughter informed me, though the look on her face was strangely unsure.

"Well call him and tell him it's time to come home. He's been out with his friends long enough." I replied, heading back into the kitchen to make sure the food wasn't burning.

"Jack, it's time for dinner, put the bazooka away please."

Upon the news of dinner, my bubbly husband threw is hands in the air with glee and showered the kitchen with screws.

"Danny'll clean that up." he said flippantly, shoving the rest of the tools in a box and proceeding to drool on the cleared table.

I shook my head, making a mental note to make sure Jack picked up after himself instead of pushing the work off on our son again. The food was sizzling, curls of fragrant steam filling the kitchen. The microwave dinged, signaling the completion of some steamed vegetables that Jazz and I would probably be the only ones to eat. Speaking of the fiery headed teen, Jazz walked into the kitchen with a preoccupied look on her face, probably still thinking about whatever homework she was working on.

"Jazz?" I snapped my fingers in front of her face to get her attention. She startled, looking at me as though just realizing I was there. "Is your brother coming home?"

"Uuuh yeah, he's coming home." She winced, again looking strangely unsure.

I watched her stumbled off with a raised eye brow, wondering if she was feeling alright. Jazz proceeded to set the table, returning to her thoughts and mentally leaving the kitchen again. I sighed, figuring it was a teen thing. Her and Danny always seem so distant these days, _especially _Danny...

My lips fell into a troubled frown at the thought of my son, and I placed the food on the table without really seeing it. Danny...well he's been so..._distracted _lately. Whenever I see him he's always running off somewhere, and for the last few months he's been unusually jumpy. If I so much as place a hand on his shoulder he jumps away and looks at me like I'm going to attack him. Just this past week he almost attacked _me _when I startled him.

Jack, of course, hasn't noticed anything amiss. The one time I did mention Danny's strange behavior to Jack, he suggested we have him spend the weekend with Vlad, as though _that _would help. Honestly, my husband can be so blind when it comes to that man... I can't help shake the feeling that something bad is going on in my son's life, but he just won't talk about it. It really worries me...

"Hey, why is everyone so quiet?" Jack pouted, disrupting me from my thoughts.

I blinked, looking around and realizing the table was all set and the food was out. Jack had already loaded his plate, about to dig in. I frowned at my own spaciness, forcing myself to return to the present and enjoy the family dinner. Jazz seemed to be doing the same, no doubt worrying about final exams that were creeping up. There was just one person missing from the table. _Again._

"Jazz, where's Danny?" I sighed. He'd already missed dinner twice this week and it was starting to upset me.

"Um...He's eating with Tucker?" She squeaked, this time outright lying to me.

"Jazz." I frowned. "I told you to tell Danny to come home. He needs to spend some time with his family."

"He-uh, I-"

Suddenly the front door opened and then slammed shut. Our conversation cut short as we all stared at the kitchen doorway, waiting for a curiously long time before our guest finally made an appearance. Danny slowly walked through the doorway, a strained smile on his face as he shakily made his way to the nearest available chair.

"Hi mom." he tried to say, voice cracking.

Oh, but I wasn't letting him get off that easily, not even if he was clearly nervous about being punished.

"Daniel James Fenton, where on Earth have you been?" I asked, placing stern hands on my hips. "Your sister told you to come home nearly thirty minutes ago."

"She did?" He blinked. "Ah, I-I mean yeah! Of course she did. Well, I uh...I was at the park."

"The park." I rose an eye brow, voice deadpanned.

"Y-yeah. That's...why it took so long to get home." he replied meekly, looking exhausted.

"Jazz said you were with Sam and Tucker."

"I-We were. We were all at the park. I walked Sam home and we talked for a couple minutes, but then I came here. Sorry Mom, I must have lost track of time or something."

I felt my expression soften at his sheepish face, finally understanding what took him so long. It's no secret to me-or the rest of the world, for that matter-that my little boy has a crush on the goth girl. Clearly he was just wanting to spend some time alone with the girl, and didn't want to say anything out of embarrassment.

"Alright." I relented, casting him a grudgingly fond smile. "I understand. But _don't_ let it happen again young man. You may want to give Sam all of your attention, but your family wants to see you too."

Danny stared at me cluelessly, a bewildered expression gracing his adorable features.

"I know that, Mom." He replied, still confused. "And it won't happen again, I...I promise."

"Good." I smiled.

Then I reached out to ruffle his hair, but Danny flinched. The warm feelings in my heart died down to one of muted concern as I stared strangely at my son. He didn't look me in the eyes, silently making his plate and taking slow bites. I noticed Jazz giving him a worried look too, brows furrowed together. Jack, of course, was oblivious to this, too busy stuffing his food down in shovel sized bites.

I watched Danny closely all throughout the quiet dinner, taking note of the withdrawn posture and lack of conversation. He just sat there with a dim look in his eyes, barely eating anything and trying to blend in with the furniture. It was more than a little troubling. I'd have to talk to Jack about it tonight. I tried to get Danny to talk as we ate, but the most I could get from him were one worded answers.

Soon enough, dinner came to an end. Clean up went smoothly with everyone's help, and then they were rushing off to do their own thing. Jack bounded to the basement shouting something about weapons, Jazz rushed to finish up homework, and Danny mechanically headed upstairs, muttering something about his room. A short huff of disappointment slipped out due to the antics of my family, but I love them, of course, and can't exactly fault them for doing their own thing. Danny and Jazz are getting older after all, and Jack...well I married Jack knowing all about his antics, so no surprises there.

Laughing quietly to myself, I went to join my husband downstairs, not pausing to think that maybe this would be a good time to talk to my son instead...

I would forget to talk to my husband about Danny, or Danny himself, for two days.

-XxX

"Sweetie, I think it's time for us to call it a night." I yawned, stretching my sore back and feeling something pop.

Jack was yawning too, but like a toddler refusing to take a nap, he kept shaking his head and pretending he wasn't tired. It was adorable, to say the least, but when he nearly burned himself trying to connect some wires I decided it was definitely time for sleep.

"Aw, I guess you're right, Mads." He sighed, sucking on the twinging finger. "We're _so close _to finishing the Spectral Fentometer though! What if the temperature in the house drops cause of a ghost and this thing isn't working to tell us!"

"Well," I smiled, kissing him on the cheek and taking the soldering gun out of his hand. "That's why we have the anti-ghost security system."

"Oh yeah..."

Jack and I slowly made our way up the stairs, deciding to leave everything out so we could work on it during the coming weekend. The house was appropriately silent when we shut the lab door for the night, a full moon resting high in the sky outside the window. A glance at my watch left me shaking my head, as 11:12 gleamed from the digital face. Goodness, I was getting too old to stay up this late.

Jack was babbling away about our newest invention, peppering his monologue with comments about ghost hunting and shooting things. I wasn't quite sure how shooting things fell in line with a spectral thermometer, but I was only half listening and thus didn't bother to ask. I was more concerned with making sure the kids were safe so I could sleep well tonight.

A quick peer into Jazz's room yielded a satisfying sight of my oldest child snuggled into her bed with an open book draped across her arm. I held back a soft laugh, smiling at my daughter who would always be my little girl no matter how old she thought she was. Even Jack stopped talking long enough to press a sneaky kiss to her sleeping head, gently closing the book he couldn't pronounce and setting it on her bedside table.

We shut the door and headed for Danny's room, expecting to see his gently sleeping form wrapped up in the cornflower blue comforter. He's still been oddly distant, not to mention missing curfew two nights in a row since our last family dinner. Every time I look at my son I feel like I'm watching a string as it becomes increasingly frayed. It's probably got something to do with the way he's always rushing off somewhere; to school, Sam and Tucker's, that restaurant all the kids go to... I never get a chance to sit down and ask what's eating at him, but then, he never really wants to talk much anyways. I should _really _talk to my husband about it though. Tonight. I'll do it-

"Uh Mads, where's Danny?"

Alarm snapped my thoughts to attention, swiftly meeting my husband's side and peering into the cold, empty room. Danny wasn't here. I looked at my watch again.

"That boy..." I grumbled, frowning and feeling twice as tired all of a sudden. I couldn't ignore the anxiety that kicked up in the back of my mind either. It always rears its ugly head when I don't know where my children are, mostly for Danny. He's probably aged me ten years with all the worrying I do for him.

"Is he still out with Sam and Tucker?" Jack scratched his head, frown matching mine.

"Probably." I clicked irritably, shaking my head and making a mental note to call their parents in the morning. "What else could he be doing at this hour?"

A haggard sigh of frustration escaped me and I turned away from the deserted room. Jack trailed after me as I went back down the steps, grumbling irritably under my breath all the while. Another glance at the clock agitated my anxiety, 11:23. Jack paused at the front door as though expecting Danny to come marching through, his frown turning progressively cross.

"How many times has Danny broken curfew this week?"

"Four." I replied brusquely, getting comfortable on the couch because I was not going to bed until that boy walked through the front door.

Jack glared at the door, finally turning around a revealing a very non-threatening pout on his face. Good thing I'm the disciplinary one here.

"He is definitely grounded." he harrumphed, plopping into a wingback chair and sinking down until he became one with the cushions.

"I don't know what else to do anymore, Jack." I snapped, rubbing my temples and looking at the clock again. "We've already grounded him more times than I care to count, but he just ignores us and breaks the rules anyway! Do you think we're too strict with him? Is that it?"

Jack puffed up and narrowed his eyes, speaking with such confidence that it bordered on humorous.

"No Mads, I think Danny's just a teenager who doesn't like to play by the rules. But we'll whip him into shape. I'll bust out the old Fenton stockade-"

"For the last time, we are _not _putting Danny in a medieval torture device, Jack Fenton!"

"Aww, but _Maddie_-"

"No. We will handle this like calm, rational adults." I cut him off in a stern voice. "We're his parents. We need to find a way to get through to him. Haven't you noticed Danny acting strange lately?"

It was 11:28 now, practically 11:30. Danny had never been out this late before. Jack's brows furrowed as spent more than three seconds thinking about my question. I looked out the windows at the cloudless night sky, worrying away at a tiny hole in the upholstery.

"Well now that you mention it, he has been a little...jumpy lately."

"I think so too." I replied quickly, "And apparently he's the same way at school. Mr. Lancer gave me a call a few days ago saying Danny nearly attacked a student when he was grabbed from behind. I've been meaning to talk to you about this, do you think-"

The door knob suddenly jiggled, like someone was fumbling with it on the other side. Jack and I immediately stopped talking, snapping our necks toward the door so fast mine popped. There was only one person who it could be, and he was about to be in a world of trouble. I breathed out my settled anxieties as I at least knew Danny was still alive, resigning my face to one of firm, parental disapproval for the coming lecture.

But when my little boy finally managed to open the door he was struggling so much with, pure, white shock bleached my entire body and drained it of everything but a numbed sense of horror.

Danny practically fell into the living room, hanging on the door knob as it swung open in a vain attempt to support his trembling legs. Blood was leaking down the side of his face. More of it could be seen beneath the ripped up shirt, like he'd put himself in the middle of a vicious dog fight. But the most alarming part was his neck and face. Danny had always been a pale boy, but tonight he was white as a sheet. Only his puffy, almost bruised lips stood out on his face, which was twisted into a expression of such petrified fear that I could already feel my heart racing. Wide, haunted eyes seemed to cut right through me. I could see how clammy his skin was from across the room, hear the uneven pants as he struggled to swallow his hyperventilating.

There were dark, bloodied marks littering his neck and shoulders too, like someone had been biting him.

And he was crying.

"_Danny?_" I gasped, already standing from my chair.

He jumped, snapping twin pools of horrified recognition at us and immediately freezing on the spot. Jack and I gaped, several seconds of perverse shock keeping us rooted as Danny shook like a leaf and stared with red-handed guilt. No body moved, no body spoke.

"Oh my God." I croaked, putting a hand to my mouth. "_Danny_."

I don't remember walking forward, but all of a sudden I was in front of my little boy and pulling him into my arms. Danny tensed horribly, though whether out of pain or fear I couldn't guess. Either way, my heart was shattering into hundreds of tiny pieces as I pulled away and looked at the beaten and bruised boy before me, completely forgetting about every shred of anger.

"_Danny, _what _happened _to you? Why are you bleeding? What attacked you? Sweetie, can you hear me? Danny? _Danny_?"

"Mm'fine Mom..." he mumbled, still frozen with shock.

"Danny, you-...are those _hickeys _on your neck?"

He started breathing even harder, each inhale uneven and shallow. My near screech must have triggered something in the poor boy's head because his eyes, open wide as dinner plates, glistened in the pallid moonlight with guilty tears.

"N-No..." he lied, and suddenly broke down into uncontrollable sobs.

I didn't know what to do except hold him tight. Oddly, Danny pressed a hand over his mouth like he wasn't allowed to cry, burying his face in the crook of my neck. It was almost reminiscent of the way he'd hug me and fall asleep in my arms as a child, but the way his shoulders wracked with silent sobs told me it was anything but. I felt hollow, utterly useless as I held my crying child. Even when Jack enveloped us with the warmth of his arms, I couldn't wrap my mind around what was happening. Ten minutes ago we'd been complaining about a missed curfew, and now Danny was crying and shaking and looking _so much _like Phantom from that night in the park.

"Ssssh, it's okay Danny. It's okay, I'm here." I whispered, squeezing him tightly as wet heat filled in my own eyes. We had never even paused to wonder if he was in danger.

Jack picked both of us up as easily as plucking a bug from the ground. I heard the door close, rubbing my hand over Danny's back as he tried to swallow his pain. I didn't know if he was muffling himself out of shame or fear or something else altogether, but either way it broke my heart. We were set down on the couch, shadowed by Jack's massive form as he stood protectively over us both. I wanted to keep Danny in the cocoon of warmth and safety forever, but when I felt a different kind of slick warmth soak into my arms, a new kind of alarm blossomed.

"J-Jack we need the first-aid kit." I stuttered, pulling away from Danny and quickly inspecting his litter of injuries. "And a glass of water too."

He immediately flew into action, demonstrating a rare speed and focus that only came out when his family needed him. I tried to get Danny to look at me, brushing matted hair behind his ears and kissing his forehead. He seemed to be curling in on himself though, hugging his bleeding chest tightly and hiding his face with a downcast tilt.

"Danny, _please_." I croaked, swallowing down a fresh bout of tears as I knew I had to be strong for my son.

He at least stopped squirming, covering his face with his hands and turning to stone before my eyes.

"I-I'm fine, Mom. I just wanna go to bed."

"No." I said a little too harshly, tone colored with pain. "We are going to get those wounds cleaned and you are going to tell us what happened tonight. What's been happening _every _night. I'm not letting you out of my sight until I can make sure you're safe."

Danny didn't respond, curling into an even smaller ball as though hoping to disappear. Guilt washed through me at the sight, unable to be pacified even as I draped a warm blanket over his shoulders and held him tight. But I had a feeling this guilt would never go away, not after the way I so throughly failed my child. I was supposed to _protect _him, I was supposed to _be there_. Instead I missed all the signs that something was wrong until it was too late.

Jack's bounding footsteps returned to us, dumping an amply supplied first-aid kit on the coffee table and setting a glass of water and a plate of warm fudge next to it. I could have kissed him for his thoughtfulness, but there were more important things to focus on. Jack kneeled beside the cloistered form of his son, resting a hand on his back to which Danny jumped violently at. He quickly took his hand away.

I didn't know what to tell the lost expression of my husband, too consumed with bewilderment, shock, and anguish myself. Instead I focused on what needed to be taken care of first, and that was the wounds that were increasingly bleeding through Danny's ruined shirt.

"We need to clean those wounds Danny." I said as gently as possible, very carefully touching his shoulder. He twitched, but didn't remove his face from his hands, only shaking his head back and forth in response.

"Sweetie, you're injured." I tried to reason with him, keeping my hand on his shoulder. "You need to let us help you."

"I can do it myself. I'll be fine. I just-I just need to go to bed."

"Danny, I'm not letting you leave this couch until I make sure you're okay. And if you won't let your father or I help you, I'll have no choice but to call the hospital."

I hated being so hard on him, but I was _not _about to let him pretend everything was okay and go to bed. There was a serious problem going on in my son's life, and I planned on getting to the bottom of it once and for all. Danny had moaned in opposition to the hospital threat, sliding his hands up until they twisted into a deranged tangle in his hair. He leaned forward, resting his head on his knees and continuing to hide himself from the world.

"I'll be fine." His words were muffled, but I heard them.

"You are _not _fine, Daniel Fenton!" I finally snapped, fists clenching. "Something has attacked you and if you don't let me clean those injuries I'll have no choice but either hold you down or call the hospital! You choose, young man!"

My heart felt like lead as I listened to the little body sniff and hold back more tears, shaking his head back and forth madly.

"Mom, don't-don't-I'll take off my shirt, I will, just give me a second." He took a shuddering, deep breath.

Danny fell silent for a long time after that, only the clenching of his hands giving away his conscious state. Jack and I glanced at each other at least twenty times, forcing patience as the blood stains only grew larger. I was just about to lose it when he finally forced himself into a sitting position, revealing his face once more. The petrified fear was gone from his eyes, replaced with a haunted, vacant look no fifteen year old should ever have. He took another deep breath.

"Just don't...don't freak out." he whispered, those words alone nearly doing just that.

Still, I nodded carefully, doing the best I could to help him remove the filthy shirt. Jack was poised and ready with alcohol pads and gauze. Danny didn't make a single sound as the cloth peeled away from the open wounds, looking as though he had way too much experience doing this. When he finally pulled the scrap of material over his head and revealed the abused skin, my numbed horror returned with a vengeance. Jack's eyes were wide as saucers, meeting mine in an exchange of cold shock and returning to the scar ridden body of our boy. My stomach lurched as it hit me how long Danny has been suffering, months of accumulated scar tissue mocking any sense of good parenting I had left.

Even worse were the fresh wounds painting his marred skin. Smatterings of typical battle wounds, looking disturbingly similar to the scars, peppered his torso. On top of purple and black bruises, long, angry scratches ran down the length of his spine. Someone with an iron grip had been squeezing his upper arms too, the bruised imprint of fingers betraying their presence. Bite marks and violent hickeys stood out like purple and maroon stains against pale skin, the multitude of sexually implicit marks littering his shoulders and neck. I was speechless as I examined the extent of Danny's injuries, chest hollowing out when I caught site of bruised, teeth-torn nipples and realized could deny it no more.

My son has been sexually assaulted.

"Danny, who did this to you?" I breathed, a whisper of a touch tracing one of the bleeding bite marks.

"...I don't know."

Anger and disappointment flooded through me at such a response, but I held the hurt back and silently dressed his wounds. Jack didn't say much either, being uncommonly gentle as he went over all the scrapes and cuts. Danny stared off with an empty expression, seeming to have shut down to what was going on around him. I knew this was a bad sign, and did my best to keep him from totally shutting us out. There was no way I could let some monster get away with doing this to my son.

"How long has it been happening?" I asked gently, forcing my tone calm. Danny shrugged.

"A few months. He...It keeps getting worse."

"So a man has been doing this to you?"

Danny didn't respond, but the tension in his jaw became visible. I glanced down and saw him clenching his fists so tightly the knuckles were turning white. Slowly, I placed my hand over his, feeling it gradually relax.

"...Is he threatening you? We'll protect you Danny. We'll do whatever is necessary to stop this from happening."

"Please, just drop it." he whispered, eyes closed tight. "I've already said too much. You weren't supposed to find out."

"Danny, we're your _parents_." I gaped, appalled at his words. "We love you and want to keep you safe! If we aren't supposed to find out then who is?"

"No one." he croaked, tears slipping down the previously made tracks. "I-If he finds out-"

"Danny, we can protect you, the police can protect you! You don't have to be afraid!"

"It's not me I'm worried about, it's you!" he burst, starting to tremble again. "He said if any one finds out, or if I tell anyone, he'll-he'll-"

In a fluid motion I kneeled down in front of my broken son, clutching his anguished face in my hands.

"Daniel James, I am your mother and I will not allow some monster to hurt you like this just because he thinks he's a threat to me. I will pound the bastard into the ground for touching you and you'll never have to suffer again. Just give me a _name _and Jack and I will have him bound and gagged by morning."

"You don't understand, he's too powerful!" Danny mourned, shaking his head. "_Please,_ just leave it alone."

"How can you ask me to do that?" I exclaimed. "How can you ask either of us to do that?" I looked at Jack, gripping his hand. "You're our son, Danny! It's our job to keep you from harm!"

"I'm sorry." he whimpered, covering his eyes with his palms. "I'm so sorry..."

"Oh Danny, sweetie, don't apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for." His tiny voice broke my heart all over again, chilling the frenzy I'd worked myself into. Guilt gnawed away at my insides as I sat back on the couch and held him close. "I'm sorry for raising my voice, Danny, I'm just very worried. Your father and I want to help you so much."

He sniffed quietly, roughly rubbing away the tear tracks from his face again.

"I know." he mumbled, curling into my embrace. "Can we-Can we just...sit here for a while?"

"Of course sweetie. Your father and I aren't going anywhere."

Jack, finishing the last of the bandaging, haphazardly threw everything back into the first-aid box. He quickly nestled himself next to our boy, throwing an arm over the back of the couch that managed to envelop us both. Danny exhaled softly and huddled into the warmth we provided, closing his eyes. I looked down at my sweet, innocent baby boy, softly caressing his dirtied cheek. Mere sight of the criminal marks marring Danny's shoulder sent a rage of fury burning through my veins. Violent retribution for the man who dared to touch my son scorched my insides, pacified only by the gentle touches of my husband.

I looked up at him and knew he felt it too. We were both going to get to the bottom of this, no matter what it took. I was prepared to homeschool Danny if it meant keeping him in my ever vigilant sight. Jack, I'm sure, was already concocting ways to protect Danny through invention, though I doubted anything in the ghost lab could keep a human criminal at bay.

A human...

...Oh my god.

Danny's expression when he first walked through the door assaulted my thoughts so suddenly I startled, the haunting look so disturbingly similar to Phantom's that it occurred to me there could be a connection. Our son was clearly too scared of whoever was hurting him to speak up, believing him too powerful and dangerous. But who could be too powerful and dangerous to accomplished ghost hunters like ourselves unless...unless Danny's abuser _was_ a ghost.

Plasmius.

The hatred that burned for that specter was only outmatched by my horror, the idea that Plasmius could target human children for his sick obsession making a terrifying amount of sense. The only mystery here was why he'd attacked Phantom. If Plasmius really _was_ the ghost of some crazed child offender, it made logical sense that he would attack and haunt human victims more so than ghosts, due to every ghost's basic distain and jealousy of the living. But if that was the case, and Danny's abuser was indeed Plasmius...then we all really were in danger.

"Danny!" I yelled, making him startle. I barely gave him time to sit straight and reach a more awake state before I grabbed his face, inadvertently causing him to jump at the sudden touch. "Danny, I want you to tell me the truth. Is the man whose hurting you a ghost?"

He froze, suddenly wide awake and staring with a nervous, cornered expression. It took a couple seconds, but then it dawned on Jack what I was getting at, his entire face dropping.

"Oh no..." he murmured.

"I-Mom, I can't-"

"Is it a specter known as Vlad Plasmius? A.k.a, the Wisconsin Ghost?" I pressed harder, and his expression told me everything.

Danny's eyes grew wide as basketballs, mouth falling open in a paralyzed gape. He was suddenly very antsy, twitching and darting his eyes around the room as though expecting the ghost to suddenly appear. My teeth gnashed together and in seconds I was flying to a hidden button to activate the emergency ghost shield. A wave of green swallowed the house, its neon hue reflected in Danny's wide, terrified eyes. He stood up, taking tentative steps in my direction with outstretching hands.

"Mom-"

"It's okay Danny, we've battle the Wisconsin Ghost before. We'll tear that monster apart _molecule by molecule_."

Something in my growl seemed to unsettle my son. He was looking at me almost warily. His beaten form, cast in sharp, green relief from the glow of the outside shield, hovered with palpable anxiousness. I wanted my words to calm him. I wanted that awful fear erased from his sweet face. I didn't know what to do when he kept defending his transgressor. I barely knew how to handle any of this.

"Mom, it's not Vla-Plasmius. It's not him."

"Danny," I breathed, shaking my head because I could hardly believe what I was hearing. "You know his _first name_. Why are you defending him?"

The words choked in his throat, faltering in the face of my open, incredulous gape. Danny was staring at me with the most helpless expression I had ever seen on him, opening his mouth as though wanting to answer and then closing it again. I waited, Jack waited, the silence in the room churned with all the anguish and uncertainty I couldn't escape. Finally, he broke, practically ripping the hairs out of his head in a fit of hysteria.

"I can't do this." He said hoarsely, repeating the mantra over and over.

"Danny...?"

"Don't touch me." he mumbled, jerking away from my hand with arms curled defensively around his body. "You don't understand, he can't know that you know. He's not-You can't reason-He's going to be so mad. Oh, god he's gonna be _furious._ I shouldn't have-I should've just-I can't do this, Mom. T-This is all just a big," he took a shuddering breath. "A big misunderstanding. Everything is fine, okay?"

Danny looked at me with the most pleading expression and then he was gone, rushing up to his room faster than I could close my mouth. Jack and I were struck dumb by the near-incoherent spew he'd left us with, at a complete and total loss of what to do next. We knew who the bad guy was, and yet, I felt more defeated than ever. I didn't know how to save my own son.

"Did you catch anything he just said?" Jack asked, eyes narrowed.

I didn't respond, cradling and rubbing my exhausted face with a thin hand. A soft green glowed beyond closed eyelids, the silence of the living room broken only by our humming shield. The defeat weighed me down like a blanket of age, withering away my strength. Jack, exactly when I needed him, moved from the couch and pulled me into a hug. I clutched at his large, solid chest, letting him lead me back to the couch where I cried in his arms.

We sat there for such a long time, holding each other and wishing we could make everything better like we could when they were little. Fixing a bike or buying a book did nothing to prepare a parent for the harder situations, or the situations you prayed would never happen.

"What are we going to do, Jack?" I sniffed, wiping away the moisture on my face. "Danny's right, Plasmius _is _an extremely dangerous ghost. I know we can take him out, but what if he finds out we're on to him or what if we make a mistake? He'll take it out on our little boy, and we won't be able to stop him."

"Sure we can!" Jack asserted, clutching my small back bracingly. "Danny can wear the specter-deflector until it's safe and we can make sure he never leaves our sight!"

"B-but what about school?" I swallowed down another bout of tears, forcing myself to be strong. "He already comes home past curfew every night, so that means Plasmius must be intercepting him sometime between here and Casper High. And even if Danny wears the specter-deflector, you know it's not strong enough to hold out against a high level specter like Plasmius indefinitely. Eventually he'll break through its anti-ghost charge and I'm afraid he'll seriously injure Danny in the attempt. He might even k-"

I stopped, not finishing that sentence.

Jack didn't have anything to say in response, his grip tightening as he slowly realized how helpless we really were. Sure, we had hundreds of ghost gadgets and inventions, but nearly every single one of them was _offensive_, not _defensive_. As much as I wanted him to, Danny couldn't feasibly carry around an assortment of ghost guns to defend himself, not to mention his meager training in how to respond to attacks. The only way to guarantee his safety would be to go to the extreme and lock him in a specter-proof box until the situation was taken care of, like a _prisoner_.

"What are we going to do?" I moaned, burying my head in Jack's chest again. "He still has a _life _to live, Jack. He has to go to school, see his friends, be free to go outside, just...be a normal teenager! How can he do any of that with a spectral monster haunting his shadow? There's nowhere safe for him in Amity Park, not when his attacker can go through _walls_."

Jack rubbed a morose hand over my shoulders, kissing the top of my head because he didn't know what to do either. I let out a long sigh, seeing no other alternative to keeping him safe _except _the extreme. But we couldn't afford an in-home tutor to keep him from falling behind in his grades, and realistically, I couldn't homeschool him and pay bills. No doubt Jazz would offer to help for free, but she has her own schooling to worry about. Maybe she'll know what to do about this situation though...

I couldn't help but feel bitter, noting how pathetic I must be if I had to rely on one of my children to help me be a good mother.

Jack, amidst my sullen pity-party, gradually decreased his gentle caressing until he went totally still, something unheard of for my hyperactive husband. Confused, I looked up to see a blossoming epiphany spread out on his face. The light in his eyes was as bright as the sunshine, almost contagious in its effect. He looked as though he had the perfect solution.

"You said he's not safe here in Amity Park, right Mads?" he looked down at me with an eager smile, waiting until I nodded. "So why don't we take him out of Amity Park? He can stay someplace safer until we catch and liquify that putrid Plasmius!"

"But Jack," I said exasperatedly, feeling let down by his unrealistic idea. "Plasmius will just follow Danny wherever he goes, and what about _school_? Who on Earth has the capability to defend against a powerful ghost, the money to pay for a private tutor, and wouldn't mind housing our son for an undetermined about of time?"

"Vladdie, of course!" he cheered.

Oh. Of course.

"Jack..." I sighed, not exactly warming up to the idea for several reasons. All of which, surprisingly, my husband went on to address.

"Just hear me out Mads, it's a good idea! I know Plasmius is from Wisconsin, but that just makes hiding Danny there even better! If we sneak him over to Vladdie's in secret, it'll be the last place he'd look! Plus, you know V-man's got some heavy duty ghost equipment in that creepy castle of his. He's probably got a ghost shield strong enough to cover all of Madison-Wisconsin, _and _he's got plenty of money to hire the best tutor in the world for Danny. Not to mention therapists and doctors or whatever else we might need. Plus, Vlad loves that kid! He'd do anything for Danny!"

"Yeah, but you know Danny isn't very fond of Vlad..." I argued weakly.

"Well I think he'd prefer V-man over Plasmius, don't you?"

I opened my mouth and then closed it, not having any other counter arguments to his proposition. As surprising as it was, his idea made a lot of sense. Danny wouldn't like it, of course, but if in the long run it'd be for his own good, he'd just have to get over it. Vlad may be a creep, but he _does _have a soft spot for Danny. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if he showered us with everything we needed to help, if for no other reason than to please _me_. Ugh. The only thing that really concerns me about this plan is the fact that Plasmius is known to come from Wisconsin. He _has _been sighted in Amity Park more recently though, no doubt for the ghost boy and now my son. If we succeeded in sneaking Danny out without the ghost's knowledge, however, it might actually be the best idea. Ghosts are driven by their obsessions, and as long as Plasmius thinks Danny is in Amity Park, he'll stay here forever. Plus, the more he can't find him, the more agitated and sloppy he'll get, which means Jack and I will be able to capture him sooner. Wisconsin is so far away though...Danny will miss his friends, his family...I'll miss him a lot too...

But, if this is the only way to keep him safe, then so be it.

"I'll give Vlad a call." I sighed, trying not to sound too grudging.

"Yay!" Jack jumped in the air, "I'm gonna go tell Danny!"

"Jack, no!" I whisper-yelled, stopping him in his tracks. "Danny's probably asleep. I don't want you waking him up with news he's not gonna like."

He lowered his gleefully raised arms, face falling with them. Jack ambled back to the couch with a depressed pout, looking comically adorable as always. I felt a demure smile prick the corners of my mouth, the first one all evening.

"Besides," I continued quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You saw how Danny acted when we wanted to take out Plasmius. If we tell him we're sending him to Vlad's in secret, I'm afraid he might tell Plasmius..."

"What? Why the heck would he do that?" Jack blinked.

"You saw how scared Danny is of making Plasmius mad. I'm sure Jazz can explain the psychology of it, but honestly, I think he's afraid of what Plasmius will do to us if he doesn't comply with his demands. I know that we can hold our own against Plasmius, but Danny is very scared and worried. I just don't want to take that chance."

"Okay." he sighed, deflating a bit, but at least he understood. I smiled and gave him a quick kiss, turning to dial the number I really didn't want to dial. My heart felt heavy as I listened to the phone ring, hoping Danny would forgive us for this. It was all for his own good.

"_Hello? This is Vlad Masters speaking..._"

* * *

lol Maddie and Jack are stupid parents. :D


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